The Raven
by beautiful memories
Summary: Max was the biggest mistake of his life. But she was also the one person he loved, the one person that made him feel stable—and he hoped, with all his heart, that Max knew exactly what he was leaving behind when he left her: his heart. A three-shot collection of Fang's thoughts. angst/fax.
1. Ascendent

**Title: **Ascendant **  
Author: **beautiful memories**  
Focus: **Fang**  
Word Count: **543**  
Published: **Friday, June 22, 2012  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to _Maximum Ride. _All characters are copyrighted to James Patterson.**  
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The Raven

**001.**

_Ascendant_

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If there was one thing Fang knew about life, it was that it moved on—seconds ticked by, minutes and hours breezed through still air. The sun rose, hot and unperturbed as always, and the orange clouds drifted across the sky. The wind was warm in Arizona, and he could feel the sunbaked earth under the flannel of his black, long sleeved t-shirt. Arms folded behind his head, he gazed up at the sun, trying to imagine how Max would've reacted—was she looking for him, possibly, as he told her not to do? And what was that—meeting her after twenty years?

But no.

Max wouldn't be looking for him—he knew her. She was the leader of their little flock, always had been, and had always taken the responsibility upon herself for all their actions. It was the one thing he admired about her—she was so strong, so undeterred from what she always thought was right. Max was definitely stubborn, but not naïve or foolish—she knew exactly what to do and wasn't afraid to sacrifice herself for Angel or Gazzy or Iggy or Nudge. Or even him.

Fang sighed and sat up. He unfolded his black wings, letting them warm in the blazing sun and thought about what he was going to do. He would definitely need to find somewhere to fit in now—there wasn't anyone he could rely on except himself. But whatever the hell that was going on with the world apocalypse, he needed to raise his own gang, and make sure they knew that he would be their leader.

But he had left his laptop with the flock. How foolish.

Fang flicked his long hair aside, irritated at its length—Max always liked it, he thought. But now he needed to remove all thoughts of her, all the romantic notations he had. They just weren't meant to be, no matter how strong his feelings were or how strong hers were. It couldn't work.

Fang fished through the pocket of his black jeans and pulled out the knife he took from the kitchen. Letting his hair fall in front of his face, he closed his eyes, thinking of his flock—Nudge and the way she looked at him as she offered him a chocolate chip cookie; the Gasman and Iggy cackling in a corner as they discussed bombs; Angel, sweet and innocent, as she gripped Total in her hand; and then, finally, Max. Max who trusted her life with him. Max who thought of him as her right wing.

Fang hacked off his hair.

As he watched his dark hair fall to the ground, he closed his eyes and let out a labored breath.

He left her. He left her behind.

He just hoped that she knew what he left her with, the only thing he could offer her and no one else: his heart.

Rolling up the sleeves to his black shirt, he bunched them at the elbows. His head was cleared from his grief, his wings warm and alive and ready to take off. He did what Max had taught him—running a few feet before taking off, ascending towards sky and rising to meet the blood red sun in the distance.

_I'm sorry._


	2. The Difference

**Title: **The Difference**  
****Author: **beautiful memories**  
Focus: **Fang**  
Word Count: **472**  
Published: **Sunday, August 8, 2012**  
Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to _Maximum Ride. _All characters are copyrighted to James Patterson.

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The Raven

**002.**

_The Difference_

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There were things Max never understood, Fang thought. She was always willing to look after others, to be the leader, to keep everything in order. That's what she wanted, the only thing that, he thought, made Max feel safe and secure—_order. _When chaos surrounded them and was tucked between every corner, she was always a bit unstable herself; always feeling irritated, snapping at The Gasman and Nudge and sometimes even him.

But she had to _know._

She had to know that if he was there he would mess up her train of thoughts—just like she did to him. How he couldn't focus while she was in the room, how he wanted to bring her so much closer when she sat beside him, how everything faded away when she was in his line of vision. That was love, wasn't it? When the world faded away and it left you and her frozen in time. It was amazing.

But oh so dangerous.

Fang startled at the tap on his shoulder—and then cursed himself. When he had cut his hair off, he had promised not to think of the gang, not to think of _Max. _How was it that she could worm her way into his mind, even when she was miles away?

He turned.

"Hey," she said, and though he was completely struck appalled—the similarity between them was so striking—he hugged her back as she wrapped her arms around him in greeting. She even smelled like her—like sky and leather and air.

Fang cleared his throat and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his leather jacket. "Hey, uh ..." He looked at her, ignoring the pings of nostalgia and loss that threatened to take him over.

"Maya." She ran a hand through her already mussed hair. "I go by Maya now."

Fang couldn't do so much as a nod. It was frightening to see how going hours without Max and suddenly seeing her again—or her look-a-like face—could damage him. And yet, he couldn't put his finger on it, but though she was Max, she _wasn't__. _There was something different about her, something off.

"I see you've, uh, done something to your hair," she said, nodding and smiling awkwardly. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she fell into step behind him as he walked towards the diner across the street.

"Yeah," he muttered, fingers touching the rough ends. "I decided for a new look. The long hair was getting kind of old."

Maya stayed quiet, and when Fang chanced a sideways glance at her he saw that she was smiling slightly, but she wasn't looking at him—her eyes were fixed firmly on the door.

As he stepped into the diner, he heard Maya say, "It looks good. Better."

**x x**

The difference between the two was appalling.


End file.
